


A Blood Vow

by Lady_Star_Strings



Series: Lavada Lystra AUs [1]
Category: Grandeur Archaic, Lavada Lystra - Fandom
Genre: Freedom Session, Hannibal AU, Illysandros Beaulieu|Drury Ayalkotori & Damaris Fideline - Freeform, Lavada Lystra, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Thomas Darner|Tomaisin & Chesney Dacre - Freeform, Thomas Darner|Tomaisin & Kestrel Paz - Freeform, Thomas Darner|Tomaisin/Illysandros Beaulieu|Drury Ayalkotori - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25743313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Star_Strings/pseuds/Lady_Star_Strings
Summary: Following what will later be called "purely self-defense," Thomas brings with him the third death between him and Illysandros to address their recent trading of dangerous blows. In the conversation that ensues, it's made increasingly clear that despite their violent tendencies toward one another, there's a shared feeling that motivates such vengeful actions and responses...
Relationships: Illysandros Beaulieu|Drury Ayalkotori & Damaris Fideline, Thomas Darner|Tomaisin & Chesney Dacre, Thomas Darner|Tomaisin & Kestrel Paz, Thomas Darner|Tomaisin/Illysandros Beaulieu|Drury Ayalkotori
Series: Lavada Lystra AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867966
Collections: Freedom Writing Sessions





	1. 6/7/20 - Even in Regards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following what will later be called "purely self-defense," Thomas brings with him the third death between him and Illysandros to address their recent trading of dangerous blows. In the conversation that ensues, it's made increasingly clear that despite their violent tendencies toward one another, there's a shared feeling that motivates such vengeful actions and responses...

“Are you insinuating that I sent Damaris Fideline to kill you?” Illysandros questioned with an arched brow, ultimately disregarding the petrified young woman’s corpse laid out before him on his dining room table.  
“Not at all,” Thomas admitted rather indifferently as he picked at the scraped-open skin of his knuckles and the blood already clotting them. “Because I know you really sent her to _test_ me.”  
“That’s a pretty bold allegation for you to make, Thomas.”  
“Well, complying with the allegation that I sent Chesney Dacre after you was fairly bold too since you were trying to exonerate me yet, but here we are.”  
“And Miss Paz?”  
As much as Thomas was loathed to admit it, Kestrel’s mere mention was still enough to draw tears to his eyes, never mind the haunting image of her horrific final state that continued to plague him. He had cried that foggy morning, alone and nearly on the floor with grief in the abandoned observatory as reporters and police forces alike swarmed outside. Despite himself, Thomas had sobbed at the thought of having to relive her cruel end and name the same man he’d already been told countless times wasn’t a murderer as his lead suspect. Worst of all, however, was the knowledge that he had been the one to send her into that lion’s den the last time they’d spoken, effectively signing her death certificate by doing so.  
Nevertheless, he had been brought there for more than the mourning of a friend, and his freshly tear-stained prison jumper did well to remind him that he was on borrowed time with his visit. With the inevitable return of his face mask and straight jacket nagging at him to get on with it, he had shelved his heavy heart for another day and carried on.  
That other day never really seemed to come, but it often trickled through in those moments he allowed his mind to wander in his cell’s solitude. Or - such as it was in that moment - whenever he was asked to recall the melancholy event.  
In this case, though, Kestrel had also been a friend to Illysandros - before she got too close, anyway.  
“...An unfortunate accident on both our parts, I think…” Thomas said quietly, offering an attempt at a bittersweet smile before it crumbled away with a slight sniff.  
“I’m sorry to have taken a friend from you,” Illysandros said with sincerity, turning his eyes down in what was considered an apologetic fashion for him. “I know how important they are to you…”  
“Apparently not enough…”  
Before Illysandros could offer further remorseless condolences, Thomas took a deep breath to cleared the sorrow from his throat in favor of returning to the subject at hand. “But I think our regard for one another has been made pretty clear by now, hasn’t it? An eye for an eye, blow for blow.”  
“I suppose so…”  
Despite the somber silence that settled upon them, Illysandros soon crossed the distance to gently reach for Thomas’s mangled hands with concern. Almost as though it were routine, Thomas willingly gave them to him, unabashedly going against that familiar nagging alive and well in the back of his head as he did so. It was challenging to pay it much mind when they were examined with such care, being held as though they were of delicate porcelain. Nowadays, it was easy to push it down in these moments - easier than he thought it maybe should have been knowing the truth, but easy nonetheless. He supposed it was because - in the grand scheme of things - he found he no longer cared to hear it, just as no one else had bothered to begin with.   
Where the rest refused to stand by him, Illysandros would tend to his battle wounds and lick him free of his foe’s blood in the shared triumph of a successful hunt.


	2. 6/8/20 - Pleading With Ultimatums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still swimming in the thoughts and feelings of his inner beast, Thomas has regrets about the actions he's taken - or more accurately, those he hasn't. It makes him question what might have happened had he not allowed Illysandros to talk him down, and more importantly, what he could get away with if he pushed back...

“I wanted to do it,” Thomas absently admitted into the darkness, almost as though he were entranced by his recollections of a few hours previous. “Part of me still does…”  
“And now that you’ve had time to reflect?” Illysandros questioned with curiosity, studying his surprisingly glasses-free face as he poured them each a glass of bourbon.  
“I shouldn’t have let you stop me…”  
“Would you have been able to keep me from doing so if you wanted?”  
“I think we both know you would have let me with enough pushing… Wouldn’t want to give yourself an ultimatum, would you…?”  
“What ‘ultimatum’ would that have been Thomas?”  
“Either let me do it….”  
As if to challenge the forming false denial, Thomas locked eyes with Illysandros before his tone turned dark, voice dropping low enough to match the flames flickering in the fireplace. If that hadn’t been enough to thoroughly stir awake the passion the psychiatrist already held for him, what he said in such a way was beyond so. “...Or fight for your life.”  
“I thought you found me too interesting to kill anymore.”  
“Not if you got in the way - after all, you gave me the same choice when you all but begged me to stop.”  
“‘Begged’ is quite a strong word for it, don’t you think?”  
“I wouldn’t have stopped if you hadn’t.”  
Thinking back to a few hours prior, Illysandros found that Thomas was invariably correct - he could never entirely predict him, especially in moments like this. When it came to him, Thomas had little patience for false pretenses on either’s end, growing more and more confident throughout the game they played with one another. Nothing could be deemed too risky or even remotely dangerous as far as Thomas had become concerned, and Illysandros secretly relished in his every evolution. Or, so he thought, anyway.  
Lost as he was admiring the beast Thomas was becoming, Illysandros failed to notice the pitiless laugh now rumbling in Thomas’s chest with almost sadistic amusement toward his flagrant adoration. The grin he wore could only be described as bitterly cruel, highlighting the vengeful gleam in his eyes with a chill similar to the night surrounding them.  
“If only I pushed harder…” Thomas mused with a feigned sigh, hand hovering by the scalpel on the desk’s edge as he came to lean up against it.  
“That’s presuming I wouldn’t have continued to ‘get in the way’ instead…” Illysandros reminded him, wariness taking the place of reverence toward the agent’s current bout of righteous recklessness.   
“Would you have…? Tell me honestly, Illysandros, if I gave you a choice right now - would you die…?”  
“Thomas, mind what you’re-”  
“Or would you _beg?_ ”  
It couldn’t have more than a matter of seconds; however, Thomas had been nearly blindsided between spitting the word at Illysandros and winding up pinned against the pillar by him as a result. In fact, it wasn’t until he felt the snail-trail of blood dribbling down his neck that he realized that Illysandros was quicker on the draw than planned. Nonetheless, he wasn’t entirely perturbed by this revelation - just irritated, and largely unimpressed if Illysandros dared to look close enough.  
Feral, Illysandros thought, was the appropriate word for how they must have looked to outside eyes at the time.


	3. 6/7/20 - Better Late Than Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Fall and a lengthy honeymoon on the lam, Thomas returns home to catch up with long-time friend Tetris Dockwend, almost as though he were back from the dead. As Tetris is soon to discover, however, the friend he knew may very well have died on that cliff compared to the beast that meets him...

“It’s rude to follow people, you know…” Thomas sighed with exasperation, failing to even bother with a look in the trio’s direction in favor of checking his watch.  
“You got a lot of balls, man,” Their apparent leader spat out as they circled the brunet, much like a school of sharks might. “That or you’re dumb as shit - ain’t no one comes down here dressed like that and expects not to be robbed blind!”  
“Well, I don’t really have time to deal with you wannabe muggers, so if you don’t mind-”  
“Shut your damn mouth, I didn’t ask if you wanted to be mugged or not! I want all the shit off your back now - all the fucking jewelry, the entire fucking suit, your goddamn wallet - and I want you on the motherfucking ground!”  
“Again, you’re being _rude_ …”  
“I don’t give a shit, get on the fucking ground you fa-”  
Before he’d fully formed the venomous slur, Thomas had caught the mugger by the arm - seemingly undaunted by his switchblade - and yanked him forward into his own blade. It had been easy to miss the scalpel where it had been concealed in his coat sleeve, but it was hard to ignore where it was now pressing into his supposed assailant’s neck. He couldn’t help the pleased grin that scrawled across his lips at the reactions it garnered, relishing in their panicked breaths and jackrabbit heartbeats. He made a mental note to tell his husband of them later.  
As much as he would hate to do so, he would have to thank Illysandros for recommending he bring the weapon - whether it had been intended for muggers such as these or not. After all, he wasn’t entirely trustful of Tetris just yet with their wanted status still being so considerably fresh, never mind his pleading, friendly concern.  
Whereas Illysandros had doubts, however, Thomas knew he was happy for him regardless of whether or not he was pleased with the situation. Bringing the scalpel had been more to appease his love than anything if he were honest. Still, seeing the position he was now in, he could understand Illysandros’s worries.  
“And that was incredibly rude of you to say,” Thomas darkly taunted as he watched the blood begin to snake down the attacker’s throat the further he drew the blade across it. “Do you know what happens when you’re rude? No no, don’t start squirming, you’ll ruin the fun… Now please, answer my question - do you know what happens when you’re rude?”  
Despite his desire to fight, the thug quickly shook his head as asked and bit his tongue to avoid bursting with expletives at the pain that came with it, not wishing to test Thomas further. With a chuckle rumbling in his chest, Thomas leaned in closer - pressing the scalpel irrevocably deep into his prey as he did so - and whispered through strangled gurgles. “...The world eats you alive…”  
In one quick swipe, Thomas proceeded to tear the scalpel free from the mugger’s neck as a spray of crimson splattered down his front, painting a bloody smile across his face in the process. At his feet, the previously piss-and-vinegar leader fell into a writhing, choking heap as he wiped the blood away and licked it free from the back of his hand. A small shiver rolled down his spine at the coppery taste, savoring the sharp undertones as its gritty scent filled his nose, and the blade gleamed like a ruby in the streetlights. Distantly, he wondered if it would still show black in the moonlight, or if it would now appear as pyrope instead.  
Much to his dismay, the remaining muggers shattered his brief moment of euphoria with their shrieks, quickly gathering their courage to charge in their friend’s honor. In another life, perhaps Thomas would have been sympathetic to their plight, but he could now only feel pity and somewhat annoyance at their futile attempt.   
No matter - the night was still young, and there was plenty of fun to be had to chase his high yet.  
  


**~✫~✫~✫~**

  
Tetris’s lungs were burning by the time he reached the street he was supposed to meet Thomas on, pausing at the corner to brace himself on his knees and heave a few breaths to keep from collapsing. With as late as he already was to their reunion, he could afford a few choking gasps for air before continuing to the crumbling archway they had agreed to meet under. It wasn’t the safest place to meet, but that only gave him more reason to hurry to Thomas - he could handle himself, at least, being an agent-turned-murderer and all. As ironic as it was to think, Tetris knew he would be safe with Thomas.  
After a few moments spent recovering, Tetris quickly - yet slower than before - followed the street down to the outlet of ruins. A giddy grin came with the knowledge that he was about to see his friend again, albeit with lingering apprehensions. Nearly a year had passed since they’d been in the same room together - to say he was ecstatic and somewhat relieved to catch up with him was an enormous understatement.  
Ever since that last visit, he had only really seen Thomas through photographs - mostly the mugshot from his false incarceration and the candids from his blog. It had taken months to look at them without shutting the television off or throwing his laptop out the window, which only got more arduous when the “honeymoon” letters began rolling in. Before they came, Tetris - alongside most of the world - had thought they had died going over the cliff, something he’d secretly hoped was the case for Thomas’s sake. Of course, they had been mainly sent to dig at Allo alone, but knowing Thomas, Tetris knew they were also to provide closure to those they left behind and still thought kindly of them. Nonetheless, that thought did little to comfort him knowing what was happening behind the happy pictures - not until he was given a number to call and an offer to meet again.  
It had been one thing to see him and read his words, but to hear Thomas’s voice and discuss their reunion like their coffee meet-ups of old over the phone was like turning back the clock to Tetris. Racing toward the clandestine meeting, he only hoped that feeling would last once he was face-to-face with the memory he had in his head. After all, this wouldn’t be the first time Tetris thought he knew Thomas, and he couldn’t be entirely sure that he wouldn’t be wrong again.  
Unfortunately, Tetris’s hope for that memory to live on was quickly dashed when he found the sight of red soaking the pavement greeting him rather than Thomas. If that hadn’t been enough to slow his rush, spotting the dark figure still looming over the last of its victims left him frozen entirely.  
“It’s rude to be late, Tet,” Thomas called to him almost teasingly as he curiously watched any remaining life drain away into the pool of blood. “But you never really were one for being where you were supposed to on time, were you?”  
“Wh-What happened…?” Tetris managed to mumble out, much to his surprise considering his admittedly horrified and increasingly sickened state.  
“They thought they were going to rob me before you showed up, and then _that_ one used a not very nice word to describe homosexuals. Honestly, people can be so disgustingly rude…”  
Tetris wanted to provide a response, but upon opening his mouth, he found it nearly impossible to find the words while continued to absorb and come to terms with the scene. He was no stranger to gore with the occupation he held, nor had he been unaware of the gruesome paintings Thomas’s “artistic” partner could create. All the same, though, it was a completely different feeling of consternation to find Thomas capable of such things, especially when it was on full display at his feet.  
Looking at the corpses strewn out around him, Tetris couldn’t help but wonder how he’d missed the beast within his friend for so many years - or how Thomas had missed it himself, for that matter.


End file.
